Azalea

Chapter One

Azalea had been fighting this for years. She had been on nearly every antidepressant on the market. She had been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder when she was 23. The doctor might as well have told her she had emotional cancer because this type of personality disorder ate away at your mind and your heart until there is nothing left but the disease. BPD has a stigma attached and it makes even doctors prejudiced. As a BPD sufferer Azalea had spent the past four years feeling like the world would paint her as a villain if they knew. She knew that she had never asked for this and that it was a result of years of traumatizing abuse, but that didn't help. Her father had brutalized her physically and emotionally for most of her life and when she finally got the courage to tell a teacher, Child Protective Services had let her case fall through the cracks. Pictures of bruises that covered several areas of her body and the statement of an angry gothic sixteen year old didn't stand a chance against a manipulative sociopathic father. Her own mother called her a liar and grounded her. She took away all of her electronics and she wasn't allowed to go anywhere but school. Her mother didn't know that she had taken away her only chance to escape the abuse her father inflicted behind a locked door.

Azalea had never asked for this personality disorder but she felt like she was the villain in the story now. She was always afraid of being accused of being manipulative because she would never want to be like that. She had spent her entire life being tortured emotionally by her manipulative father, so she never wanted to be that way. She had all of the symptoms except for anger. That could be because she had spent most of her teenage life dealing with her father's anger at her mother for divorcing him. It could be because she was a pacifist and hated violence or even raised voices. She liked to think she just possessed really good self control because there were times when she got pissed off but she couldn't really say that she had ever given into her anger--outwardly at least. She certainly had done a number on her wrists and upper arms (when she became cleverer and learned how to hide it) with razor blades. She had even punched the mirror that hung on the back of her door when she was sixteen. She had punched and kicked it until the pieces littered her bedroom floor... She definitely wasn't proud of that, but she was upset because her own mother called her a liar for coming out about the abuse. As a punishment for doing that much damage to her bedroom, she had to spend the weekend with her father. That was always a threat and teenagers aren't exactly the greatest at restraining themselves so she received that punishment time and time again. Azalea thought back on the other DSM symptoms of BPD. She certainly had the "extreme reactions...to abandonment, real or perceived" including the detailed reactions, specifically panic and depression. Depression had always been prevalent in her life, but she only panicked when she was really afraid of losing someone. She had serious abandonment issues but she tried to trust people nonetheless. She didn't even bother getting involved with anyone romantically, but she really loves her independence so worrying about romance was the last thing on her mind. She tried to trust the people she was closest to--despite her mind insisting that she couldn't afford to be emotionally attached to anyone. She tried to let her heart take the wheel when it came to her platonic relationships. "A pattern of intense and stormy relationships with family, friends, and loved ones, often veering from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation)" She certainly had the intense relationships and they could get pretty rocky, but she tried very hard to keep her relationships with her family and friends stable. She had never "devalued" any of the few people she was closest to. She was glad that she could control that at least. She definitely had a "distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self, which can result in sudden changes in feelings, opinions, values, or plans and goals for the future (such as school or career choices)..." Really...where to even begin! She had her basic characteristics, talents, and things she loved, but she never felt like she had a constant sense of self. Any trigger for a depressive episode could make her forget everything she was about and everything that made her who she was...not for a long time, but just long enough to feel empty and lost. Her opinions or political views didn't really change. She had always been pretty liberal. The only change was that she had mentally evolved and decided that it should be a woman's right to choose. She would never have an abortion but she would never want anyone to take away her right to make that choice. However, she believed--in her mind at least--that a baby is a baby at conception because she had been faced with an issue that made her really think about that. She had recently gotten into a debate about egg donation with one of her friends. She had told her friend that she could never give away her eggs because she couldn't bear to think about part of her being out there in the world without knowing all about them. As for her future plans or goals, she had changed her major twice. She never finished college and that had always been a major issue with her. She felt like a failure because she had had a 4.3 GPA in high school. She had taken honors and AP classes. She had earned As without needing to study a day in her life. It just seemed like when she got out in the real world, it was a lot harder to stay motivated and to spend your time and newfound freedom just studying. She had definitely acted out "impulsive and often dangerous behaviors, such as spending sprees, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating..." She was the most impulsive person she knew. She had gotten better at it, but she used to blow her entire paycheck on makeup or books without thinking about the fact that she needed to eat. The biggest one she dealt with was substance abuse. She had been a drug addict since she was a teenager. She couldn't really determine whether it started when she was prescribed the anxiety and sleep medications, which was when she was 16...or if it had started sometime in between the time she was first prescribed them and when that doctor left the practice. She saw his replacement for a year but she had gotten really attached to her former doctor so she stopped going. It was a very difficult time in her life because she had been seeing him every other week for two years. It's normal to get attached to someone you see that often. She eventually went back to that doctor's office and had gotten even more attached to her new doctor than she had been to her former doctor. Her substance abuse was the worst part of her personality disorder and of her depression and anxiety. Drugs and alcohol became a crutch for her. They became a way to escape her reality. As a teenager she had started with a couple pills of Klonopin and a few of the Sonata (similar to Ambien)--at different times of the day of course. By her early twenties she was drinking half a bottle of Parrot Bay rum with absolutely no hangover. At the age of 25 she could drink an entire bottle of Calico Jack rum but she would usually have a little hangover. This behavior scared her so she tried to get sober. She had gone almost a year, but when she was 26 she had relapsed. At the age of 27 she had graduated to being able to open a bottle of Ciroc vodka and throw away the cap. She had tried over and over to get clean. It was the hardest battle she had ever fought and the war would never be over. She had issues with "recurring suicidal behaviors or threats or self-harming behavior, such as cutting..." She started cutting when she was fourteen but she didn't start actually make a habit of it until she was sixteen. She had only had one prior suicide attempt and that was an overdose. Her body had gotten used to her using large quantities of medications, though, so she didn't die. She just wished she had while she was locked in a dual diagnosis center for two weeks. That place was sort of a rehab and a psych ward. She most definitely had the "intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from a few hours to a few minutes..." She had her highs and lows and they were extremely intense. She could go from being on cloud nine to falling to hell in an hour sometimes. It was scary but her bipolar medication controlled the mood swings for the most part. She also had the "chronic feelings of emptiness and/or boredom..." She felt empty a lot of the time. She had to fill herself with her television shows, books, music, and her dog. She always needed to be doing something so she wasn't bored. She was constantly looking for new books and new television series to get into. She absolutely loved the escape they provided. It was certainly better than what she had been doing...filling that empty hole with drugs. --------------------------------Azalea brought herself back to the present. She often got lost in her thoughts and sometimes it was impossible to find her way out. Her mother had taken away her razors, scissors, and anything sharp. She knew how to be resourceful, though, and she was certainly creative. She found the hammer from the tool kit she kept underneath her cedar chest. She had used it to hang a couple pictures back when things were good and she had been happy. She had been very sick lately and had spent a few nights in the hospital. She had had stomach issues ever since she can remember. It always seemed to accompany the anxiety brought on by her obsessive worrying. Ever since she was a little girl she constantly had to keep her mind engaged. If she didn't listen to music, read, or watch something on television, she would would start thinking about everything she had to worry about. A little girl should never have anything to worry about but with her father, she had a lot to worry about. People can't see the abuse now. The bruises have healed but the emotional scars--the ones that started to form years before any other kind of abuse--those never heal. They remain there in your broken heart. They add up until all you have left is scar tissue.
She walked over to her dresser and picked up the blue mason jar filled with pens and post it notes. She emptied the jar's contents onto her zebra print comforter. She lifted the hammer and hit the jar with it. The hammer broke the jar into five pieces. Azalea took the biggest piece and pressed it against her wrist. She pressed down hard and dragged the piece of glass vertically down her forearm. Blood began to drip onto the cream colored carpet. The room started spinning and she couldn't tell which way was up. She couldn't walk or think. She looked down at her arm and when she saw what she had done she passed out.